Kisses
by Doc Scratch
Summary: It wasn't as though he allowed the kisses because he liked them, that was simply ridiculous." Prussia/Austria one-shot. Fluffier than Hanatamago.


A/N: FINALLY I get a story up about my OTP. I love this pairing so hard guys, it's crazy. Fear the lame unimaginative title. _Fear it_.

Disclaimer: I disclaim.

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Kisses

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It wasn't that he allowed it because he was a coward. No, nothing like that. Nor did he refrain from fighting back because he was too weak, or because he in any way _liked _the Prussian man. Hell, at _best_, he _tolerated _him.

It was simply, well, there were certain advantages to being kissed by Prussia. For one thing, letting him just get on with it saved a great deal of time that would have otherwise been spent arguing, and would've ended with Gilbert making an attempt to take what he wanted anyway. And yes, it also meant that Austria was able to avoid getting into a fight with the annoying albino, but that wasn't because he was afraid. It was just that fights always caused such a mess both of his home and his clothing, and he wasn't too fond of the resulting scrapes, cuts, and bruises either. It was only if Prussia tried to steal more than a kiss that Austria resorted to violence or, more often, calling for Hungary to administer said violence. The point being, fights were inconvenient. It was better to just avoid them when possible.

Besides all this, Gilbert also happened to have a tongue ring, which was something Roderich had never encountered in any other kisses he'd had, and he had decidedly been missing out. Not that he'd ever say as much out loud, of course. Actually, he generally complained that the metallic taste was unpleasant, when the truth was quite the contrary.

Not to mention... Austria was loathe to admit it, but Prussia really wasn't a bad kisser. Far from it. Really far from it. _Frustratingly _far from it. All too many times it was only decades of well-practiced self-control that allowed the musician to retain the faculties of speech after one of Prussia's little assaults. Damn him.

But that was just the physical aspect, and Roderich could hardly be blamed for his traitorous body's responses to Gilbert's stupid talented mouth. It was all hormones and biology and other annoying things beyond his control. He still didn't _want _Prussia to keep barging into his house and suddenly forcing kisses on him all the time. Although, as the ex-Nation's habits went, the whole kissing thing was actually relatively non-irritating. It was certainly better than having his sheet music stolen or his furniture broken or beer bottles strewn about his home. And those were just a few examples of the endless ways Prussia had of antagonizing his favorite target.

Still, though he allowed it for the above listed very logical reasons, Austria had never ceased being perplexed about the Prussian's tendency. He'd become accustomed to it, true, and was no longer at risk of sputtering or falling over off whatever he happened to be sitting on at the time anymore. Austria was so used to the swift, fierce kisses that came so often after the herald of boots tromping on his floors that he barely felt the slightest surprise when they came these days. But he still didn't _understand _them. They were the only sign of any affectionate inclination Prussia had towards him. All his other actions suggested nothing short of intense dislike and complete derision. Surely Prussia hated him, which only made sense considering their history, and after all why else would the albino constantly go out of his way to make as big an annoyance of himself as possible? So why the kisses?

One day, the notion struck Austria to just... ask. They were sitting on his sofa, he was drinking tea while Prussia was busily flicking through some kind of magazine he'd apparently found in his brother's closet that Austria didn't really want to look too closely at (he also didn't bother asking what Prussia had been doing in Germany's closet), and the thought descended.

"Prussia?" Austria ventured, setting his cup down in its saucer, just in case.

"Hn?" Prussia grunted, not even looking up from the magazine. Austria paused for a brief moment of exasperation. He crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow, and nudged Prussia with a foot. The albino finally tore his eyes away from... whatever he was looking at, and fixed his scarlet gaze expectantly on the Austrian. Roderich took a breath, centered himself, and just when it looked like Prussia was about to roll his eyes and say something sardonic, he let the question fly.

"Why do you kiss me?" He tilted his head a little, genuinely interested in the answer. Was it a game? A strange whim? Some kind of fetish? Or, most likely, just another way to piss Austria off? After all, it was obviously impossible that it was out of any sort of genuine romantic interest. If all Prussia's maddening behavior was actually his idea of courtship, he was even more insane and idiotic than Austria thou-

"Because I love you, stupid." Prussia rolled his eyes and looked down at his magazine again. Austria blinked. He sat up straighter and opened his mouth, certain he had heard wrong. Then he shut it again, since no sound was coming out.

Finally, he managed a weak "...I'm not stupid." To which Prussia snorted at him and flipped another page of the magazine.

"Well if you're asking why your boyfriend kisses you, than I gotta say-"

"_Boyfriend!?_" Austria well knew that the customs and traditions of old had all but been abandoned in the modern day, and that relationships, as it were, had changed drastically in many ways... but he had been pretty sure that it was still a requirement for both people involved to agree on one before it started. Apparently he was wrong, because Prussia was looking at him like... well, like the way he looked at Prussia when the other man said something particularly vulgar or ignorant. Or both.

"Uh, _ja_." Prussia said, setting the magazine down now. Roderich didn't even have to work at not glancing at the cover, his attention riveted by shock on Gilbert. "What's with the loo-... oh no..." A pause here, and Austria couldn't help but feel an ominous foreboding as a sharp grin slid onto Prussia's face. "You're seriously telling me you _didn't know?_ Oh man!" Austria sputtered and gestured wildly, trying to find words to voice just how _utterly psychotic_ this situation was. One long, pale finger was placed firmly over his lips. Austria froze, instinctively. "Roderich. We spend more time around each other than anyone else. We bicker like an old married couple. We have _centuries _of history. I periodically destroy your stuff, and then have to make it up to you one way or another. We make out on a regular basis. I love you. We're in a relationship."

...There really wasn't much he could say to that, was there? Not that it appeared to be necessary as Prussia was _still talking_.

"Seriously though, you've got to be the last one to know or something. I mean, sure it took the Awesome Me a while to figure it out but _still_- and ok maybe I only really got it when Poland started going off about this article he'd read in one of America's magazines-'Cosmo' or whatever- and then I was like 'Whoa...' but I mean it's not really a bad thing, is it? And besides, I've always been pretty sure you felt the same-mmph!"

Another good thing about kissing Prussia, he couldn't talk while it was happening.

End.


End file.
